


Darkening Day

by Emachinescat



Series: Vampires of Bayport [2]
Category: Hardy Boys - Franklin W. Dixon, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Adventure, Bromance, F/M, Fantasy, Friendship, Gen, Suspense, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-28
Updated: 2010-10-17
Packaged: 2018-01-13 15:43:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1232044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emachinescat/pseuds/Emachinescat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to After Midnight. Joe returns home after the adventure in Forks and attempts to adjust to his new life of vampirism and secrecy while a man named Roth is after him, believing Joe holds the secret to human immortality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, don't own either.
> 
> Enjoy. :)

_He had always seen his brother as unbreakable, unchangeable, invincible. Something strong and firm—a rock. But as he was taken away to what would ultimately prove to be his doom—and for him, who knew what lay after death?—he saw that perhaps his brother wasn't as invincible as he had once thought._

_For there was one thing that tugged at his breaking point. A pang of guilt stabbed him in the chest as the door shut behind him and he took one last look at his brother's tortured eyes. It was him. He, himself, was the one thing that kept his brother on the sane side of the fine line between sanity and insanity at moments like these._

_The black clad figure holding his arm smirked and ordered the bulletproof car to move._


	2. Chapter 2

Joe Hardy stared blankly out of the airplane's window, his fiercely intense blue eyes unblinking and glazed over as if he were sleeping while awake. His chest rose and fell steadily, purely out of habit as he breathed in the millions of smells contained in the small cab of the plane. He could smell his brother, a good, outdoorsy smell, his blood warm and flowing appealingly through his veins, smelling sweet and repulsive at the same time, achingly familiar. He could smell the fat man in the seat in front of him, a mixture of greasy smells and mold, and Joe swore he could smell cholesterol in his veins. A sweet, floral, delicious smell wafted from someone on the back of the plane—the gorgeous blonde who had flirted with him before boarding the plane.

The smells both repelled and seduced his senses. He hated the burning they left in his throat, loved the delicious smell, and mouthed a silent thank you at his uncanny and supernatural ability to restrain himself. Sighing, he glanced at his brother who was sleeping, and thought with anxiety that perhaps he should have told Frank the whole truth. He shook his head wearily and forced his thoughts elsewhere.

He looked at his reflection in the window, still shocked at the drastic changes in his appearance after his experience in the insignificant town of Forks, Washington. The boy who looked back at him was not the boy he had seen in the mirror so many times before—this boy was pasty white with a tan undertone to his skeletal whiteness. His eyes were still blue, but even more shockingly so than ever before. He looked like an angel—beauty was prominent on his seventeen-year-old face. His skin was ice cold and rock hard. Although he didn't have to breathe now, a heart still thudded softly, weakly within his cavernous chest.

He heard movement beside him and deftly turned to his brother, who was just waking up from his nap. "Hey, bro. Nice nap?"

Frank shrugged and stretched as best he could in the limited space the airplane seat offered. "Fine, I guess." He studied his younger brother with concerned brown eyes, causing Joe to grimace.

"Frank, I'm fine, stop fussing over me."

Frank shook his head as he took in the drastic changes in his baby brother. "It's just so unreal," he muttered, then smiled. "How much longer?"

"We'll be arriving in New York in about fifteen minutes," Joe informed his brother dutifully. He hesitated. "Frank, I don't know if I'm going home."

Frank's eyes widened in shock. "What?"

"At least, not yet. Not until I find a way to explain all of this-" he gestured toward his foreign reflection in the window extravagantly, "-to Mom and Dad."

Frank shook his head agitatedly. "No, you've gotta come home, bro. I thought...spray on tan...long sleeve shirts...stay indoors on sunny days...?" His voice became more pleading with every strange suggestion.

Joe laughed dryly. "I tried some of that spray on stuff while you were sleeping, Frank." He chuckled darkly at the memory. "The traces of venom in my skin melted it off within minutes. And I can't go around in gloves and sweaters all the time, or stay indoors on sunny days constantly—it's not normal, Frank! I've got to find some way to explain all of this  _before_ I go home, because everybody is going to freak when they realize that something big has happened to me..."

Frank shook his head even harder. "Joe, don't be ridiculous. You don't have to do this—we'll think of something. I know you can't tell the whole truth, but maybe you could fudge it a little...?"

"Do you want Aro, Marcus, and Caius to come visit the house, maybe have a cup of tea with our parents and Aunt Gertrude?" Joe asked coldly. Frank paled at the thought. "Besides," Joe said softly, "even if I could think of something, I'm not going to take a chance with Vanessa..."

"What do you mean?" Frank asked, bewildered. "You're different from the others—not dangerous at all."

Joe hung his head. "I lied a bit, Frank," he said. "I told you that blood isn't appealing to me—well it's not, at least not as much as the others. But-" he hesitated, "-I am a vampire, Frank." Frank cringed a bit at the word  _vampire_  and Joe pretended not to notice. "Even though I have more humanity in me than other vampires, I'm not immune to the smell of blood. Like right now—I can smell your blood—kind of rusty, coppery, and sweet." Frank began to look a little uncomfortable. "My throat is burning because of the smell and my mind and heart are appalled that I find your blood so appealing. It's all very confusing, you see. And if there's any chance that I won't be able to control my thirst around Vanessa..." he shuddered. "Alice saw our first meeting and she knew that I wouldn't hurt you—wouldn't even think of it...but things are different when it is someone you are in love with...Edward said that Bella smelled so delicious that he almost killed her the first time he smelled her. I know I can contain myself with anyone else, but I don't want to take a chance with Vanessa."

Frank groaned. "Joe, you are so obnoxious! Do you really think Alice and the others wouldn't warn you if you were going to murder your girlfriend? It's safe, Alice knows that! She knows the future, remember? Joe, you gotta come back!"

Joe scowled out the window and said softly, "I'll think about it." He then closed his eyes and laid his head back.

"Joe, I know you're not sleeping—you can't sleep!" Frank hissed quietly. The corner of Joe's mouth twitched.

"You think that's funny?" Frank kidded, then punched his brother in the arm, forgetting how rock-hard his skin was now and yelped in pain, causing several people to glance his way. After everyone had turned back to their own business, Frank nursed his hurt hand and muttered, "Stupid vampire brother."

Joe snorted in laughter, knowing at this moment that there was no way he could not go home with his brother—they needed each other.


	3. Chapter 3

Fenton Hardy was waiting in the small diner, wondering why his sons insisted on meeting him here before they headed home. Frank hadn't told him any specifics when they had talked earlier, only assuring his father that he and Joe were fine. They just needed to talk to him about something before they came home.

He smiled when he saw Frank enter Dixon's Diner and look around for his father. Their eyes met and Frank hurried to speak with his dad. "Hey, Frank. How was your trip?"

Frank hesitated. "Interesting."

"Is everything okay? Where's your brother? Why did you want to meet me here?"

Again, Frank hesitated. "Everything's fine, Dad. Joe's in the car. He'll be in in a minute. But, uh, we needed to, um, talk to you before we go home and see Mom and Aunt Gertrude, okay?"

"Sit down, Son. What's wrong?"

Frank sat across from his father, licking his lips nervously. "Dad, something happened to Joe while we were in Forks."

Instantly, Fenton was on his feet. "Is he okay? What happened? Why didn't you call?"

"Dad—no, don't panic—he's okay. Just…different. We went to Italy and—"

Fenton sank down in his seat. "No…the Volturi changed him, didn't they?"

"What do you know about the Volturi?" Frank asked cautiously. He knew, of course, about the run-in between Fenton and his ex-partner on the force, Charlie Swan with the Volturi, but didn't know how much his father actually knew about them.

"There's something wrong with them," Fenton said darkly. "Charlie and I convicted them for mass murder but they escaped and then we were forbidden to enter their part of the city again by the Italian police—we assumed there was corruption, but we checked them out again—nothing. They were clean. It's scary, how they are. But they aren't natural…their skin is pale and cold and their eyes are blood red…" He shuddered. "They are very evil men, and there is something almost supernatural about them. I remember, one day, while doing our follow-up investigation, we saw a man talking with Aro—he's the head of this…cult," he finally said, unable to come up with a better word to describe the foul coven, "—the next day, I saw the same man coming out of their headquarters, only he was completely different—he looked like one of the Volturi."

"Yeah, we ran into them, and, well, Joe's not exactly the same anymore—he's still Joe, inside and out—but he has a few, erm, physical alterations. I needed you to see him before we go home—we need a story and we need to make sure that you'll still—" he hesitated.

"We'll what? Still love him? Still want him? Frank, he could be a monster and we'd still love him."

Frank felt ashamed for even bringing that point up. "Right. Well…Joe, come on."

He said the last words very quietly and Fenton wondered how Frank expected Joe to hear them. A second later, however, he saw a blonde young man enter the restaurant and head their way.

At first Fenton did not recognize this angelic-looking youth. Joe had always been a good-looking boy, but this blonde boy was ethereal in his beauty—marble-white face, intense blue eyes, flawless and graceful...

The boy stopped in front of Fenton and Frank and said, "Dad."

Fenton stared at his son for a long second and without a second thought pulled his youngest boy, his baby, into a tight hug, not recoiling even when he felt the rock-hard, icy texture of Joe's skin. Joe stood rigid and gently—ever so gently, afraid of his own strength—hugged his father back. After a few moments Fenton backed up and smiled at his son. "What did they do to you?" he asked softly.

Joe glanced around and noticed several people gawking unabashedly at the strange scene and the incredible looking boy. He cleared his throat and said, "Maybe we should sit down."

"Right," Fenton said, noticing for the first time the nosy onlookers. The three men sat down at the table and the busybodies lost interest and returned to their own meals. "What happened, Son?"

Joe hesitated, not wanting to lie to his father but completely unwilling to say or do anything to get his family in trouble. He glanced at Frank, who gave him an encouraging smile and nod, and Joe said, "Frank already told you that we met the Volturi," he said quietly. He chuckled humorlessly. "Nice folks, real nice." He sighed. "They're not normal, Dad...they can do things..." Again he paused, not sure how to continue. "To make a long story short, I don't know what happened to me, exactly," Joe said in a rush. "I mean, one minute everything was fine and the next this girl attacked me and I passed out. When I woke up, I was with the Cullens and I looked like this." It was the truth, technically. He hadn't known anything about what had happened at the time. He allowed himself a bit of comfort at the knowledge.

Fenton nodded slowly. "Frank mentioned on the phone that you guys found Bella and the Cullens. He said that it was a big misunderstanding and that they were getting ready to work it out with Charlie."

Joe nodded. "Yeah. We called Charlie and told him that Bella was fine and she'd be contacting him in the next couple of months."

Fenton smiled warmly at his son. "Are you sure that's all you can remember?"

Joe hesitated for only a half of a second before lying, "Yes."

"Too bad. If you knew what happened, we might be able to find a cure—and we might finally be able to nail the Volturi for something."

Joe snorted. "No way, Dad. You'll never get the Volturi for anything. Trust me."

Fenton's eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

"What he means is that they're impossible to pin anything on. You wouldn't believe the resources and people they've got on their side. Even you wouldn't have a shadow of a chance," Frank said truthfully.

Fenton was stunned into silence for a moment. His sons had never before doubted his abilities in the slightest, never believed that anything could stump their father—until now. The Volturi must have really spooked them, he decided. That, or...maybe they were right. Something just wasn't right about the Volturi.

Finally, he spoke. "Don't worry, guys. We'll get to the bottom of this."

"Dad, just leave the Volturi alone," Joe snapped, standing up facing his family. "Trust me...I'd rather  _not_ find out what happened to me and keep you guys safe."

Fenton and Frank stood and Fenton nodded slowly. He knew there was something his boys weren't telling him, something big and important, most likely. But he was content to let it slide for the moment. He slung an arm around either of the boys' shoulders—smothering a gasp at Joe's icy skin—and the three headed for the exit.

For now, all that mattered was that his family was safe once again.


	4. Chapter 4

That evening, the Hardy family was gathered around the table for dinner. Everyone's plates were piled high except Joe's; he decided that was more of the source of the worried glances he kept receiving from his family (save for Frank) than his altered appearance.

Upon arriving home, his mother and Aunt Gertrude had been panicked when they saw his pasty white skin, ultra blue eyes, and rock hard skin. Laura Hardy had taken her son's face in her hands, gasping and barely restraining herself from recoiling at the sensation that she'd just dunked her hands into a bucket of cold water. Joe had had question after question shot at him. What had happened? Who did this to him? What exactly happened in Forks that changed Joe so much? Was there anyway to reverse it? Did he have any ill effects; did he need to be taken to the hospital? Would he be able to carry on with his life normally?

Joe, although as a vampire he couldn't be tired, felt exhausted when he answered the questions. "I don't remember. A terrorist group in Italy. We chased a lead to Italy and then I got captured and when I woke up I was like this. No. No; no. Yes."

Frank had thankfully stopped the interrogation and suggested that they all be thankful that Joe survived his ordeal in Italy. "Maybe he'll remember what happened, and maybe not. Either way, what's done is done and we have Joe, even if he is a little different. That's all that matters, right?"

Although his parents and aunt seemed shocked at Frank's seemingly calm attitude about his brother's ordeal, they agreed that having Joe back safe and sound was indeed the most important thing. The boys had retired to their rooms to unpack and freshen up, then the whole family had gathered for dinner.

Now Joe was trying to ignore the flabbergasted stares he was getting from his family. Normally Joe ate a very generous amount of dinner which contributed greatly to his top shape and muscular build. Today he was barely eating anything and he knew that his parents and aunt had to be very worried about him. The truth was, though, that this kind of food just didn't appeal to him anymore.

He sighed, and to appease his family, he forced down a bite of pizza and his mother relaxed a bit. Fenton broke the tension by saying, "So, guys, got any plans for tonight?"

"I'm sure we can find something to do on a Saturday night," Frank said, grinning at his brother.

"Let's just hope it doesn't involve solving another mystery," Gertrude Hardy snapped. "Poor Joe doesn't need to be romping around chasing bad guys after his ordeal—after what he's gone through, he'll be much too vulnerable."

Frank and Joe caught each other's eye and smothered a chuckle. What Aunt Gertrude didn't know was that Joe was now the least vulnerable he'd ever been—nothing save for being torn to bits by vampire and having the bits burned or the death of Frank would result in his demise. "I was actually thinking we could go out with the girls," Frank said, referring to his girlfriend, Callie, and Vanessa Bender.

Joe suddenly looked very uncomfortable and Frank knew that he was thinking about their conversation about Vanessa on the plane. Before he could say anything, however, Fenton said, "Oh, I forgot to tell you—Vanessa's still on vacation in England with her mom. She called and left you a message the other day, Joe—the trip was extended and she won't be back until Wednesday of next week."

Joe tried his best to hide his relief. Frank sighed. "Well, that plan's out. How about we hit a movie and Mr. Pizza with some of the guys?"

Joe shook his head, smiling at his brother. "Nah, actually I was planning on hiking out in Greshem and doing some hunting."

Frank eyes widened when he realized what his brother had in mind. He glanced at Joe, who looked positively ashamed of himself. Frank shook his head wearily—Joe had _nothing_ to be sorry for.

"Hunting?" Laura Hardy asked, shock registering on her pretty face. "Since when do you  _hunt_?"

Joe shrugged. "I've hunted a few times over the years." That was kind of true. He had shot a bear once when he and Frank had been stranded in Alaska.

Laura pursed her lips. "Ooookay, well, have fun."

Joe grimaced and sighed, "Yeah right."

* * *

Later that night after Joe had returned from his "hunting trip", Frank was about to knock on Joe's bedroom door when he heard a quiet, "Come in." Slightly taken aback, Frank entered the bedroom.

"Gee, Joe," he playfully scolded. "I know you have super sonic hearing but you could at least wait until I knock before you invite me in."

Joe grinned his lopsided smile. "Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "You know I don't like waiting."

"Same old Joe," Frank muttered, then plopped down next to his brother on Joe's bed.

"So what's with the late-night visit?" Joe inquired, quirking an eyebrow.

"What; you don't already know?" Frank teased.

"I'm not Edward," Joe countered. "I don't read minds, so that's why I'm asking you what's on yours."

"Joe, I want you to know that there is nothing to be ashamed about."

If Joe could have blushed, he probably would have. As it was, he lowered his eyes and lied, "I have no clue what you're talking about, Frank."

Frank rolled his eyes. "Come on, Joe. I saw you at dinner. You looked all guilty when you mentioned going hunting."

Joe looked embarrassed. "You know I'm not talking about normal hunting, Frank."

"I know. Joe, it's no different than going out in the woods in camo with a hunting rifle, okay? Either way, an animal dies and either way you're the one who killed it."

Joe winced. "It's not so much the killing," he admitted. "It's the method of killing—it just seems so..." he shuddered, "brutal."

"Joe, this is who you are now, remember? When you first told me your secret, you said, 'That's who I am, take it or leave it.' I think you should follow your own advice and stop seeing yourself as a monster. So you have to feed on animal blood every so often to keep you healthy. It's who you are—I chose to accept you as you are. It's time for you to do that for yourself."

Slowly Joe nodded. He stared at the floor. "Thanks, Frank...it feels good to know that you don't think I'm a..." he shuddered, "a monster."

Frank hugged his little brother gently and whispered fervently, "Never, baby brother. Never."

* * *

Vladamir paced back and forth in front of the two killers. "Thank you for extending your services to me."

"Trust me, we want Hardy gone as much as you do," one of the killers grinned. "I'd've almost done this job for free." He glared at Vladamir threateningly. "Almost."

Vladamir laughed and pulled a wad of cash from his trench coat. He tossed the money to the killers, who stashed it away and waited for their orders.

"No one else is to be touched," Vladamir ordered sternly. "I want you to go into the home, slit Joe Hardy's throat, and be back here within the hour."


	5. Chapter 5

After Frank went back to bed, Joe, who, being a vampire, could not sleep, switched on his laptop and listened to its steady hum. While he waited for it to warm up, he grabbed his iPod—a sleek black 120 gig beauty that could hold nearly 100,000 songs and play a ton of movies. He popped the ear buds into his ears and scrolled down until he found an old Bon Jovi song that he liked. After pressing play he turned back to his laptop and logged on to the Internet.

He checked his mail—one new message from Vanessa, asking him how Forks was and telling him how happy she would be to see him again. Then he Googled _vampires._

He knew what Alice had told him, but she herself said that her visions were relative and could change in a heartbeat. Joe wanted to know for himself exactly what he was.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting—maybe a Vampires for  
Dummies page with a FAQ for recently changed vampires—but he found nothing useful in the 4,260 results that Google had pulled up. Frustrated, he went back to the search bar and tapped in _vampire hybrids._

The first 50 or so results were no help at all—movie information about  _Underworld_ with its half-vampire half-werewolf hybrid, stupid campfire ghost stories, and some e-book about a vampire named Timmy that wanted to be a real boy. Joe shook his head when he saw that one.  _Who thinks up this stuff?_ He marveled, then decided that he really didn't want to know. He was about halfway through the fourth page of results when he found a website that looked promising. He clicked on and read about vampire males that would seduce young human women. When the women had their children, they would die—the child would tear the mother apart from the inside—and the result would be a half-human, half-vampire child. This child had a heart and would grow until adulthood and then it would stop growing and live like a normal vampire. Just like Renesmee. The only difference was that Renesmee's mother survived the birth. Joe found nothing on vampires like himself.

Suddenly his ears perked up and he jerked his headphones from his ears. From all the way downstairs, he heard footsteps. He listened closely. He could hear Frank's light breathing from his room and heard his father snoring loudly from down the hall—Joe didn't even need sensitive ears to hear that, though—and his mother's soft breaths. From her room downstairs, Aunt Gertrude was tossing a bit restlessly. Joe heard her mumble something about George Clooney in between snores.

So there was an intruder in the house. Judging by the footsteps, there were two men coming up the stairs. Joe tensed, ready to jump into action if they decided to enter Frank or his parents' room. The men, however, sneaked what would have been silently if Joe didn't have supernatural hearing toward Joe's room. He heard one man mutter, "I'll hold him down, you slit his throat. Joe Hardy's ours."

 _This should be good,_ Joe thought as he bit back a chuckle, switched off the lights, and dove under his covers in less than a second, moving like lightening. This was the first time he had tested the full power of his speed and he loved it. He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

The door creaked open and Joe heard the men enter his room. He forced his muscles to relax. He felt a hand smack over his mouth and heard the gasp as the intruder felt the iciness of his skin. The man said, "I think he might already be dead, Aaron. He's as cold as death." He tried to slit Joe's throat with a large knife. Joe felt the corner of his mouth twitch as he bit back a smile. He didn't feel the knife make contact with his skin but he heard the screech of metal against metal as the man tried to cut through his skin.

Joe chose that moment to jump up, screaming madly, and sent the assassins leaping away in shock. The one that had been addressed as Aaron swiftly pulled a gun out of his trench coat and fired a bullet right at Joe's heart. Too bad for Aaron, though—the bullet bounced right off and hit the man in the shoulder. He screamed and Joe heard Frank's door slam open along with his parents' and aunt's because of the shot and the assassin's scream. His partner whipped out a radio and flipped it on. "He can't be killed! I repeat, the knife wouldn't penetrate; the bullet bounced off his ski—" The man was cut off mid-sentence as Joe gently tapped him and his bleeding partner on the head with his fist—any harder and Joe's inhuman strength would have killed the men.

All of this transpired between the time it took for Frank to run from his room right next door to Joe's. When he burst into Joe's room with his parents and Aunt Gertrude on his heels, Joe was standing above two unconscious men, one who was bleeding from a bullet wound in his arm. "What happened?" Frank cried out.

Joe tried to look as scared and vulnerable as possible so as not to make his family suspicious, but in reality he was jubilant. He had never felt more excited than he did now—for the first time since the transformation, he loved being a vampire.

"I don't know," he said softly, shooting a meaningful look at Frank. "I was asleep and all of a sudden this big guy covered my mouth and I woke up."

"They were trying to kidnap you?" Fenton asked as Laura hurried from the room to call the police and an ambulance for the wounded villain.

Joe shook his head. "No, they only wanted to kill me. One tried to slit my throat, but I got away. He shot at me, but I dodged it and he hit his partner in the shoulder."

"Then why is the one with the gun also the one with the bullet hole?" Gertrude Hardy questioned, eying Joe suspiciously over the top of her wire-rimmed glasses.

 _Oh yeah,_ Joe chided himself.  _Should have thought about that._ Feigning frustration, he mumbled, "I don't know...it's all kind of hazy."

Frank jumped to the rescue by swiftly changing the subject. "The question is—why would someone want to kill Joe? Joe and I aren't working on a case and Dad doesn't have any old enemies that escaped from prison or that have been released."

Joe frowned. Now that his moment of fun was over, he was forced to think about what had just transpired and found that he was puzzled over it, too. Who  _had_ tried to kill him? And why? They obviously didn't have anything to do with what had happened in Forks, considering these guys were human and knew nothing about Joe's new superhuman "powers".

Laura interrupted his musing by hurrying into the room. "I called the police and an ambulance," she said, glaring fiercely at the men who had tried to murder her baby boy. "Why I have to call an ambulance for those creeps I'll never know."

Fenton slipped an arm around her, partly as a gesture of comfort but also to prevent her from doing something that she might regret in the long run—like tearing apart the men lying in a heap on Joe's floor.

* * *

Nearly an hour later, the men had been hauled off by the police and the Hardys had given their statements. Frank was in Joe's room while Gertrude made some coffee downstairs—everyone was too wired to sleep.

"I just don't get it," Joe said. "It was pretty cool freaking out those punks that tried to kill me but now that I think about it, I'm pretty peeved that someone tried to kill me."

Frank chuckled. "Yeah, Joe, I believe that's a natural reaction."

Joe made a face at his brother. "Seriously, though...you're right. We're not on any cases and as far as we know, Dad's not got any old or new enemies roaming free. So who's trying to do me in?"

"The Assassins?" Frank suggested, referring to the secret terrorist group that the boys had worked against many times.

Joe nodded. "Definitely a possibility." His eyes glinted with excitement. "Frank, it looks like we've got a case on our hands."

For some reason Frank didn't look as thrilled as Joe felt. Joe nudged his brother gently in the ribs. "Hey, what's up?"

Frank forced a smile. "Nothing. Well, Joe, I'm going to go to bed, alright? See you in the morning."

As he left the room he could feel Joe's sharp eyes boring into his back, obviously puzzled about his strange behavior but he ignored them and headed off to bed.


	6. Chapter 6

Vladamir was happy.

He was happy because his little test came out positive. He was thrilled because Joe Hardy was indeed a vampire. He was ecstatic because Joe Hardy was not a  _normal_  vampire.

He closed his dark brown eyes and remembered the words that the Assassin had screamed into the radio.  _"He can't be killed! I repeat, the knife wouldn't penetrate; the bullet bounced off his ski—"_

That had been the whole purpose of this "assassination" of Joseph Hardy. Now that Vladamir knew for sure that the boy was a vampire, albeit a strange one, he could act.

He had to have Joe Hardy in his clutches no matter what.

* * *

Joe had barely been able to contain his impatience until Frank woke up and ate breakfast Sunday morning. He had been itching to contact the Gray Man since the attempted murder last night, but he had figured that Frank would not be happy if Joe went on with the investigation without him and he also realized that the Gray Man would not be happy if Joe called him in the middle of the night, waking him up.

So Joe had used up what little patience he had to begin with and had spent the rest of the night reading a book assigned to him at the end of his Junior year for over summer break. He would have a quiz over the book within the first week of his Senior year in his English class. The book, ironically enough, was a book by Elizabeth Kastova,  _The Historian_ , which was about the nefarious vampire Count Dracula.

Finally Frank had gotten up and he and Joe had eaten a light breakfast—their parents and aunt had gotten up earlier than usual and had gone to church on Laura's insistence. Frank was going to agree to go but Joe stopped him and had lied that he was still kind of shaken up from last night and he needed Frank to stay home with him.

Now the boys were in Frank's room, Joe sprawled on his brother's freshly made bed and Frank perched in a much more dignified manner on his computer chair. "Joe, what's this all about?" Frank asked.

"Hey, I told you we had to start investigating today, didn't I?" Joe grinned, expecting to see his brother become excited about the prospect of starting another case. Frank, however, seemed to become a little more downcast at Joe's statement. Joe figured his brother's reserved attitude was a result of the shock just settling in that he had a vampire for a brother so he didn't press the matter. "So why don't you use your modem to contact the Gray Man and we can see if he knows anything about what the Assassins are up to now, 'kay?"

Without a word, Frank did his technical duties and within minutes the boys were talking to Arthur E. Gray, alias the Gray Man, their contact within the secret government agency the Network.

"Oh, it's you," came the very unenthusiastic voice of the Gray Man.

"Yes, it's us," Joe snapped.

There was silence for a moment. Then the Gray Man said slowly, "You sound different, Mr. Hardy."

It was true, of course. While Joe's voice hadn't been effected very much by his transformation, it had a more musical, fluid sound to it. But it was very difficult to detect and Joe was surprised that the Gray Man had noticed. Then again, he reminded himself, Arthur Gray  _was_ a spy—and a good one at that. Joe responded, "Look, Mr. Gray—we didn't call to discuss how my voice has matured somewhat. We called to find out if you know if the Assassins have been up to anything lately."

Gray laughed humorlessly. "You're seriously asking me if the Assassins have been up to something?"

Frank interjected, seeing his brother getting fed up with the government agent's sarcastic tone. He didn't want Joe to do or say anything that would anger the man—he didn't want the Gray Man to hang up and stop helping them because of Joe's temper—even though Joe couldn't be killed, it was still very important to find out who had tried to murder his baby brother and why.

"He means to ask you if there is any specific reason to believe that some of them could be targeting Joe right now," Frank said calmly, raising an eyebrow at his brother who grinned sheepishly. Even as a vampire, being slow to anger was  _not_ one of Joe's best qualities. In fact, Frank had noticed that at times Joe seemed to be even more on edge since his metamorphosis.

Gray paused for a moment. "What happened?"

"Two goons broke into our house last night and tried to kill me!" Joe burst out. "They didn't touch anyone else—didn't even bother looking in anyone else's room. They went straight to me and tried to slit my throat while I was sleeping and when I woke up and squirmed away, they tried to shoot me," Joe seethed, getting angrier at his "potential murderers" by the second. What if he hadn't been a vampire? Joe would probably be dead right now. He barely restrained a shudder.

The Gray Man seemed very interested by this morsel of information. "I do not know why they are targeting only you, Joseph," he said, "but if I had a guess I'd say it would have something to do with you angering them with your hot head and abnormally large mouth."

Joe bit back an angry retort just to prove to the Network agent that he could control himself. Instead, he said, "I—we—haven't had any run-ins with the Assassins in a while. We don't even know for sure if these guys that tried to kill me are Assassins. We just wanted to know if you knew anything."

The Gray Man was silent for another moment before he said, "I know nothing right now, boys. But thank you for the heads-up. We'll be monitoring the Assassins' movements extra closely to see if we can figure out what they are up to. In the meantime, don't do anything stupid." The line went dead.

"Well that was no help," Joe complained. Then he grinned. "Ah, well. We solved mysteries just fine before the Network came along, and we can solve'em by ourselves now. Who needs some stuck-up secret agent to help us figure this out?"

Frank had remained silent during Joe's little "pep talk". Finally he looked into Joe's eyes and, in an extremely subdued voice, revealed what he had been meaning to tell Joe all along but hadn't known how to do it.

"Joe...you're going to have to solve this one yourself...I'm not sleuthing anymore..." There was a painfully tense pause, then Frank forced himself to continue, "...ever again."


	7. Chapter 7

Joe stared at his brother, sure that he hadn't heard him right. Frank wasn't sleuthing ever again? That wasn't possible. Joe managed a chuckle. "Okay, Frank, joke's over. Let's get to work."

Frank shook his head. "You're on your own, Joe."

Joe was incredulous. Frank, the over-protective big brother, was refusing to help him in an investigation? "Frank, what are you thinking?" Joe asked. "I mean, you don't mean you're never going to solve another mystery again?"

Frank shook his head and Joe was shocked. "Why are you doing this?" he breathed.

"Joe, I have to protect you."

Joe scoffed, "Frank, I don't know how many times I've told you—I don't need any protection. This case is nowhere near dangerous for me—remember what happened last night? Those guys had nothing on me. If anything,  _you_ are the one that needs protection."

"Exactly," Frank said. Something clicked in Joe's mind.

"Frank, don't be stupid," Joe snapped. "There's no reason to give up your dream because of this—you'd be in the same amount of danger as you were before and you never chickened out then."

"That's when your life didn't depend on mine!" Frank snapped. He took a deep breath. "I thought about it all night last night. After what happened..." He shuddered. "If those guys had decided that they wanted to do me in, you wouldn't be here right now."

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" Joe asked. "I knew they were in the house before they had even made it through the front door. I was listening; I could tell where they were going. If they had made one move toward your room,  _they_ probably wouldn't be here right now."

"Joe, don't you get it?" Frank exploded. "You've never had a sense of self-preservation! You don't see the danger that I am to you now! I don't care about me—it's  _you_ I care about! Before, when we solved mysteries, there was only one person's life in my hands—my own! You don't understand how terrifying it is to know that even though you are pretty much invincible,  _I_ am one of the only things that can kill you. I have to stay away from anything dangerous for your sake, Joe. I  _will not_ allow anything to happen to you. I love you too much. I know you'd do anything for me, like I'd do anything for you, but...what if you hadn't been there? What if you'd been hunting or something? Those men could've gotten bored waiting for you and decided to slit my throat instead. Then you would have died."

"Frank, if you were in any potential danger, I would know," Joe insisted. "You know how I told you that vampires carry some of their stronger traits onto their new life?" Frank nodded, trying to calm himself down. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, and we've always had this kind of supernatural connection." This was true. Somehow, since the brothers were so close, they could always sense when the other was in danger and sometimes even feel each other's pain—something unheard of for siblings other than identical twins (and never quite as strong with twins, either). "I'm willing to bet that our 'connection' is now stronger than ever."

"If that's true," Frank said doubtfully, "then how come you didn't feel any potential danger last night?"

"Because those goons weren't after you at all," Joe said. "They were after me. I guarantee you that if they had made a split-second decision to pay you a visit that I'd know at once."

"Either way," Frank countered, "I still can't afford to gamble with your life. You're too important to me."

"And I'm never going to let anything happen to you because you're so important to me," Joe insisted, "so, by extension, I'll never let anything happen to me either."

Frank smiled sadly at his brother's logic. "I'm sorry, Joe," he said. "I will not play with your life. But I know you're strong and smart enough for both of us. You said it—those mortals don't have a thing on you. You're invincible. So you go ahead and investigate, okay? I'll be on the sidelines cheering you on."

Joe glared at his brother. "And what do you plan to do for the rest of your life, O Noble One?" he asked sarcastically, trying to rile his brother into changing his mind. It didn't work. Frank didn't look perturbed in the least.

"Joe, there are a lot of other things I'd like doing that are safe and enjoyable for me...computer programmer, teacher..."

"You know, Frank," Joe spat, "I can't believe you're giving up your dreams and your life for me. Normally, I'd be flattered, but right now, I'm so angry I can't find anything sweet about what you're doing to me." He stormed out of Frank's room, slamming his brother's door behind him.

* * *

Roth was a very evil man. He was the head of the Assassins, had been for the past five hundred years. In all five hundred years, he had never found adversaries that he hated as much as the Hardys.

It was he that had sent Al-Rossussa to Bayport. It was he that had orchestrated every event the Assassins had ever been a part of.  _He_ was the one who really held all the power...he had more power than the Volturi and he relished it...he worked like a puppet master, behind the scenes, orchestrating every move of his mannequins without them even realizing it. No one but the other Assassins of his kind even knew about Roth's existence. The others like Roth were second-in-command over the terrorist group.

There were one hundred others like Roth in the Assassins. But they all knew that to become so high up in the organization, one had to pay a hefty price.

They would have to give up their humanity.

* * *

Vladamir stood before the leader of the Assassins, smiling calmly into the blood-red pools of Roth's eyes. The man stared at Vladamir, his pale face serene and undoubtedly evil. "So," the vampire said in a silky-smooth, bone-chilling voice. "You hire out two of my mortal Assassins on a suicide mission and they are now locked away forever."

"I told you my reasoning behind it, sir," Vladamir stated, refusing to break contact with those scarlet orbs. "I had suspected that Joe Hardy was a vampire—a strange one, the only one of his kind..."

Roth waved him aside. "No need to explain. We both agreed that there would be risks. My question now is...what do you plan to do with your information? Have the boy turn you? I can do it now, if you like..." Roth opened his mouth and hissed, revealing a set of perfectly white, deadly teeth. Vladamir shrank back, knowing that those pearly whites were coated with poison that would change him into a monster like the man snarling at him. Roth laughed at his little joke. Vladamir did not.

Instead, he said, "Sir, if you're done, our agreement when I first discovered your secret after hiring out some of your men was that I would someday turn into a vampire myself. You never specified what kind."

"At that time, there were no other 'kinds'," Roth said stonily. Then he smiled. "I understand. You wish to examine the boy, find out his secret, and see if you can harness the powers of immortality and invincibility without turning vampire yourself. You want to be the first and only person with his own endless fountain of youth." He frowned, then said, "Why not? I, too, am mildly interested in this strange development. I will allow you to capture the boy and do your tests on him—on the condition that after you are finished with him you will kill him and his family—there are too many Hardys in the world."

Vladamir was enthused by Roth's ready agreement but saw a major flaw in the proposal. "How am I to capture him?"

"I will lend you ten of my most elite vampire killers," Roth said. "They will have no problems subduing and transporting the boy and will obey your orders as long as you don't deny them their payment."

Vladamir pulled out another stack of cash. "How much do they want?" he inquired.

"Keep your money," Roth snapped at Vladamir. As long as they can feast on the remaining Hardys after they have done their part, they will be most loyal to you."

Vladamir cracked a wicked smile. "I wouldn't have it any other way."


	8. Chapter 8

Joe couldn't remember ever being angrier at Frank than right now. How could Frank do this? How could he give up the one thing he loved doing more than anything else? Didn't he trust Joe? Didn't he realize that Joe wouldn't let any harm come to him? He was so frustrated...

He knew his brother was just trying to protect him. He knew it; he just had trouble accepting Frank's decision. To be honest, he knew that if the situation was turned around, he probably would have made the same decision Frank had made. Reality hit Joe then, a punch to the gut that could bring even a vampire to his knees.

 _Joe_ was the one in the wrong here. Frank was just doing his job, being the over-protective big brother he had always been. Joe was being selfish. He wanted to have Frank as a partner again and hadn't given a second thought to the mental agony his brother had been going through. If only there was some way to balance the scales again.

Joe flopped onto the couch and checked his watch. His parents and aunt would be home in another hour or so; they were going out to eat after the service. Joe sighed and knew he should apologize to Frank but he had never been good at admitting that he was wrong and he figured that Frank might need a few minutes to calm down as well. So he flipped on the TV and started surfing channels, finally settling on ABC's newest "reality" show,  _Wipeout,_ where extremely idiotic people competed for $50,000 in an enormous water-obstacle course.

He suddenly flipped off the television just as an extremely fat woman was being thrown into a pool of water by a swaying pendulum. He thought he had heard something. The next thing he knew, there was a tremendous crash and he was surrounded by five gigantic vampires.

* * *

Frank felt sick. He had never,  _ever_ seen Joe so mad at him before. He could understand, of course, why his brother was so angry, but still, it hurt. What Joe didn't seem to realize was that this decision hurt Frank just as much as it did Joe. From the time he was old enough to think for himself, Frank had wanted to be a detective just like his father. It was one of the most difficult—albeit essential choices he'd faced in his eighteen years of life.

He just had to make Joe understand why it was so important that he keep himself safe at all costs. Frank hated having his life so connected to Joe's. He loved his brother more than anything and refused to do anything to jeopardize his life. If only Joe could see it through Frank's point of view.

He heard the television come to life downstairs, announcing in a loud, upbeat voice that _Wipeout_ was about to begin. He allowed himself a half-smile. While Frank didn't get much entertainment from watching a bunch of ditsy people jump around giant obstacle courses and get hit in the gut with spring-loaded fists, Joe loved it. In fact, he had said that he would love to be on the show.

Frank was jerked out of his thoughts (which was a bit of a relief since they had taken such an odd turn) when the TV grew silent. Then there was a colossal crash from downstairs.

Frank's first reaction was to jump up and dart downstairs to find out what was going on, but he restrained himself. Whatever it was, Joe could handle it. He  _had_ to handle it. Frank couldn't risk Joe's life.

But then he heard his brother let out a strangled yell and he knew that somehow Joe was in trouble. Frank felt his heart jump to his throat. He felt sick. What should he do? What  _could_ he do? Nothing! Joe let out a growl of pain and Frank swore he felt his own arm twinge with pain. His brother was being hurt! He had to do something!

Quietly he crept down the stairs and froze at the sight that met him: there were five vampires in his living room, all with crimson eyes and sinister smiles. Four of them had subdued Joe, who was on his knees, defeated, a large chunk of skin missing from his right arm, but of course no blood seeped from the wound. His arms were behind his back, his wrists clasped together by handcuffs.

Forgetting himself momentarily, Frank stepped out. "Joe!"

"Frank, get out of here!" Joe ordered harshly. "You'll get yourself killed—and remember," he added, just to make sure his brother put himself out of danger, "—if you die, I die!"

"But I just can't leave you here," Frank said, backing up all the same. "Why don't you just break out of the handcuffs? Fight your way out of this?"

"Because," came a sinister voice from behind him. Frank jumped. Five more vampires leaped over his head and landed agilely on the balls of their feet in front of him. Ten vampires against a human and a newborn vampire. They were  _so_  outnumbered. "The handcuffs were designed by the greatest vampire of all time: Roth, the leader of the Assassins. They are made from the severed hands of the most powerful vampire of all time—the first vampire—the Cold One. No one, mortal or vampire, can break them, and the Cold One's hands answer to no one but the Assassins."

"You're Assassins," Frank breathed, realizing that all along the terrorist group had been run by vampires.

"And you are obviously either extremely stupid or very naïve," the vampire sneered. He gripped Frank's arm and the boy winced.

"Hey, you've got me!" Joe insisted, knowing that he was in much more trouble than he had originally thought, considering the Assassins not only knew about vampires but was run by them. "Let him go!"

"He has a point," said one of the vampires restraining Joe. "Our orders were to bring the mutant freak and not touch anyone else."

" _Mutant freak?_ " Joe spat. "I'll have you know-" He stopped short as the vampire standing before him lashed out and brought his clawed fingers across Joe's face. There was a sickening screeching sound, like nails on a chalkboard, and then the vampire was picking Joe's vampire skin from under his fingernails, while Joe winced in pain from the indentations now permanently etched into his previously flawless skin.

"As I was saying," the vampire snickered after all of Joe's skin was out from under his fingernails, "This freak was the one we were ordered to capture, but did you not hear that interesting development—apparently, if this morsel dies, so does the mutant. So I say we take them both—we get to have all the Hardys for dinner after our employer has finished with Blondie anyway. Just a little extra insurance that the  _freak_ behaves."

Joe glared at them and said, "Please...leave my family alone...you can do whatever you want with me."

"No can do," snickered the vampire clutching Frank's arm. "Part of the reason we agreed to this job was because we were promised that we'd get Family a'la Hardy added to the menu after our employer is finished with you." He gave the boy a tap on the head like Joe had done with his "attackers" the night before and Frank collapsed into his arms. Joe surged against the unbreakable handcuffs and the hands that held him but to no avail. He was forced into a waiting car at the back of the house, shoved to the floorboard, and then felt Frank land on top of him, limp.

"I'm so sorry Frank," Joe whispered. If only he hadn't said anything about their connection.

He had sealed his brother's fate.

And by extension, he had sealed his own.


	9. Chapter 9

When Joe was ushered out of the car, held in place by six of the vampires—not that he would have tried anything anyway, considering an unconscious Frank was slung over the shoulder of one of the monsters ahead of him—the first thing he noticed was that he knew where they were at.

"Oh how original," he said sarcastically. "Of all the places in the world, how come the Assassins always come back to the same old place? Don't you think the Lazarus Clinic has been overused just a bit?"

"Will you shut up, mutt?" one of the vampires holding him hissed, referring to Joe's mixed DNA—half vampire, half human.

"Not something I'm very good at doing," Joe admitted as he was shoved toward the old clinic where he had witnessed Iola's clone, believing that it was truly her, come back to him...

The memories filled him with pain but he pushed it aside. There would be plenty of time to reminisce  _after_ he got he and his brother out of this mess. Provided he  _did_  get them out.

He was shoved into the clinic and down several dark hallways and staircases. The vampire carrying Frank vanished into a room after the first flight of stairs and Joe jerked in the direction of where his brother was being taken. "If you really want your arm ripped off, keep it up," said the same vampire who had told him to shut up earlier. "I'm running out of patience and I'm pretty sure you don't need your limbs to be of use to our employer."

"Who  _is_ your employer?" Joe asked, his detective side taking control. Instead of answering, the six vampires gripping him and the three hovering closely around for backup tightened their grip on him and hustled him into an office.

The room was bleak and the only furniture that indicated what it was used for was an old desk with a busted computer on it and a swivel chair behind it. Joe was surprised to see that the man sitting behind the desk was not a vampire. He was most definitely human, although one look in the man's eyes showed that he was pure evil.

The man's thin lips curved into an evil smile as he stared at Joe, an excited hunger springing to life in his eyes. "Joseph Samuel Hardy. It's a pleasure." He stood to his feet and the three backup vampires instantly helped keep Joe immobile so the vampire couldn't hurt their employer.

"Who are you?" Joe demanded, glaring at the man he just met but hated more than anyone he had ever had the misfortune of meeting in his entire life—except for maybe the Volturi...but then again, they weren't really men, they were more of intelligent parasites.

The man met his gaze and looked positively thrilled. "You are a vampire, yet your eyes are  _so_ blue, Mr. Hardy," he nearly squealed.

"Yes, my eyes are pretty, now what do you want?" Joe snapped.

The man laughed. "I like him...the mongrel has a sense of humor." He paused. "Until I have done what I want with him, I do not feel entirely comfortable with him being allowed to roam free." He nodded at the vampire that had just re-entered the room after depositing Frank elsewhere. The vampire left and returned seconds later with the strangest looking contraption Joe had ever seen.

It was a gurney with what looked like hand-less human arms protruding from it. "What the heck?" Joe demanded as he was shoved to the gurney and pinned down hopelessly to it—the thing was icy cold even to his skin. He shuddered (which is something vampires aren't known to do, considering their death-like body temperature) as the gurney's arms wrapped themselves around his chest and secured him there by re-connecting the human (or vampire) hands that held Joe's wrists together to the wrists of the arms.

"They told you the handcuffs were made from the Cold One?" the man said, grinning. "Roth lent them to me. See, the Cold One was the original vampire—the strongest one until Roth came along and vanquished him. But Roth was smart. He didn't burn the pieces as most do to finish off vampires. No, he used the Cold One's pelt to make that unbreakable device you're strapped to. The arms are the Cold One's, as are the hands that are keeping your own hands in place. This is the only device in the world that can render a vampire defenseless—even the Volturi do not have anything like it!"

"But why do you even want me?" Joe said. "You have all these other vampires at your service."

"But none are like you, Mr. Hardy. But first, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Vladamir and I want to be immortal."

"But...I'm  _not_ immortal," Joe insisted.

"Perhaps not," Vladamir commented, unphased by Joe's admission. "But you have the potential to be so...you see, I am very intrigued by the strange, the original, and you, son, are one of a kind. I intend to learn your secrets and find a way to harness your immortality and super powers, for lack of a better term, and become the first and only immortal human. I will have my own personal fountain of youth!"

Joe blinked. "Has anyone told you that you're crazy?" he finally said.

Vladamir grinned. "Yes, many times. However, I believe that to be a genius is to be what others consider a lunatic. You see, I have known about the existence of vampires for many years and find them fascinating—how wonderful to be immortal and unstoppable, but the fact is, there are thousands of vampires all over the world. How unoriginal. I want to be special. The first and only one of my kind."

Joe said the only thing that came to his mind at the moment. "You won't get away with this," he growled and Vladamir laughed heartily.

"From the time I was a child watching Saturday morning cartoons I've always wanted someone to say that to me!" he chuckled, then grew deadly serious. "Take him away and make sure there is someone guarding him 24/7. I do not want my ticket to immortality to get away."

"Oh, he won't," said one of the vampires as they released Joe from the gurney's arms and shoved him ahead of them, out of the office. "Not if he doesn't want his precious brother to get hurt..."

* * *

"Wake up." Frank groaned and shook his head. "Come on, kid, I don't have all day," said a sinister voice. The man then muttered, "At least not yet."

Frank lifted his head and saw that he was being effortlessly supported by one of the vampires that had come into their home and abducted Joe and himself. "Joe!" Frank yelled, jerking forward and hissing in pain when he realized just how futile it was to try to get away from a vampire.

"Relax, kid," said the voice. "You'll be with your brother in a second. Just answer a few questions and you'll be reunited."

The man was not a vampire, tall and slender, with green eyes that radiated evil. "You answer wrong, your friend here breaks all your bones." Frank gulped as he felt the icy-cold grip of the vampire tighten on his arms. "What's your name?"

"Frank Hardy," Frank said softly, seeing no way out of his situation.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Tell me about your brother, Joe."

"He is seventeen and..."

"No, what  _is_ your brother?" the interrogator demanded.

Frank tried to clear his head. "Stubborn?"

The man laughed. "Funny, kid. Almost as funny as this." He nodded at the vampire holding Frank. The vampire jerked Frank's arm and the boy felt a searing pain explode in his limb as the arm snapped. He tried not to pass out from the pain but he could feel his world turning gray. "Now—what is he?"

"V-vampire," Frank whispered.

"Very good. And one more question...is it true that if you die, he dies?"

Frank didn't answer. "If you don't tell me, I'll kill you and find out for myself. I want him alive, you see, and if you'll go ahead and answer my question, you'll both remain..." he glanced at Frank's limp, swollen arm, "...relatively unharmed."

Desperately fighting the blackness, Frank managed a weak nod. He gave in to the pain and darkness, but not before hearing his captor say heartily, "Perfect. Mend his arm and make sure he stays out of harms way completely. If either one of them dies prematurely, I shall be extremely...put out."


	10. Chapter 10

Arthur E. Gray fidgeted nervously behind his desk as he locked eyes with the tall, dark headed man standing over him. He knew better than to mess with an angry Fenton Hardy but couldn't help but saying, "Come, now, do you think this is all very appropriate?" the Gray Man snapped. "It's bad enough that it's a Sunday and I'm not even supposed to be working today, just doing some paperwork and whatnot, but you have the guile to barge into my top secret headquarters, and into my top-secret office, and stick your nose in my top secret affairs?"

Fenton snorted and snarled, "I don't give a crap about your affairs, Gray. I just want to know what you know about what my boys know and tried to tell you about because I know you know what I'm talking about."

The Gray Man stared at the detective in front of him for a long moment, then stood, cleared his throat in an important manner and said, "Say again?"

Fenton sighed. "Look, sorry for snapping. But my wife, sister, and I came home from church this afternoon to find that the living room had been completely ransacked and the boys were missing. Then I checked Frank's modem and saw that they contacted you this morning, so I have a pretty good feeling that you know something about what's going on."

Arthur Gray huffed and grudgingly answered, "They called this morning to tell me about the assassination attempt last night." He started to say something but bit it back. Fenton was hounding him in a second.

"You know more, Gray, and you'd better tell me what it is if you value your life..."

Arthur E. Gray had dealt with an angry Fenton Hardy before and did not cherish the memory. He sighed, rubbed his temples, and said slowly, "Fenton, there's something different about Joe, now, isn't there? He's cold, pale, and his voice is more musical, am I right?"

"I thought you said that they just called you? How could you know how he looks?" Fenton wondered.

"Because," said Arthur Gray. "We've dealt with the Volturi before and we know the signs—I heard the change in Joseph's voice the second he started speaking."

Fenton's voice sounded tight and stressed. "The signs of what?"

"You know, we could both get into some serious trouble if I tell you this," Arthur Gray sighed.

"If we do, I'll take the blame," Fenton snarled. "What do you know about my son?"

Arthur E. Gray closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and prepared to hear objections and angry words from Fenton Hardy. "Joe is a vampire."

* * *

Fenton Hardy couldn't believe what he had just heard. Joe? A vampire? It was ludicrous! Gray was obviously pulling some kind of elaborate hoax. But...Arthur E. Gray never smiled, let alone played jokes! He racked his brain, remembering the eerie events surrounding the Volturi case in Italy. The death like skin. Red eyes. The murders that just disappeared. Joe going to Venice, coming back looking like the Volturi. Taking hunting trips? He felt sick to his stomach. What  _kind_ of hunting trips?

Everything made since, as much as he hated to admit it. And the Gray Man was certainly not one to joke around. In fact, Fenton didn't believe that the agent would recognize a joke if one jumped on his head and danced around naked!

Fenton finally forced himself to speak. "Why didn't he tell me?"

The Gray Man actually seemed surprised. "You believe me?"

"It makes sense," Fenton said weakly. "I've always known that there was something off, something...wrong about the Volturi...something supernatural. But why didn't he tell me?" Fenton felt betrayed and sad. He now realized that both of his sons had been lying to him since they had returned from Forks.

"Mortals are not supposed to know about the existence of vampires," the Gray Man answered.

"Then how do you know?" Fenton shot back.

"Because," the Gray Man said tersely, "both the Assassins  _and_ the Network are run by vampires."

Fenton swallowed and sank down into the office chair. "So there are  _good_ vampires?" This was the strangest conversation he could ever imagine having with a government agent and if it hadn't been for Gray's inability to even crack a smile Fenton would have convinced himself that this was all a crazy joke.

"Obviously," Gray said in a bored tone. "Hopefully I'll be able to explain this to my boss or we'll both be in some serious trouble," he mused.

"Tell me more about what's happened to Joe," Fenton demanded, not caring what would happen if the Network's leader found out that Fenton knew about vampires.

The Gray Man sighed. In a dull, monotone voice, the agent spun what would have been an intriguing dark fantasy novel. He told of beautiful, angelic people that glittered in the sun, attracting their prey and then sucking their blood...He told about vampires that called themselves "vegetarians"; ones that only hunted animals and only hunted in areas where there was over-population of creatures.

"Are the Cullens vegetarians?" Fenton wanted to know.

"Yes," the Gray Man said wearily. Suddenly the door was flung open and the most graceful, pale, and angelic looking man Fenton had ever seen glided into the room. He nodded at Gray and the agent gratefully took his leave. In a musical voice he asked, "Fenton Hardy?"

Fenton nodded. He licked his lips, his mind reeling from all the revelations he'd dealt with in the past ten minutes. "Uh, yes."

"My name is Agent White," the man said silkily.

 _What is it with the Network and color names?_ Fenton found himself wondering. He shook his head and concentrated on what the government agent was saying.

"I am the head of the entire Network." Fenton gasped, amazed that he was talking to someone so high up in the government—no one knew who the head of the Network was. "Yes, it is an honor to talk to me and you should bask in my glory," the man said, but Fenton could hear a smile in his voice. Apparently having no sense of humor wasn't a top secret government thing—it was just a Mr. Gray thing. "I want you to know that your sons are in grave danger but we will do all that we can to save them," White announced.

"Sir?"

"Let me brief you quickly before we move in: I'm a vampire, a vegetarian, a government agent, highly influential in the inner workings of the country, but I am also your friend, ally, and a big fan of your detective work. Once we save your sons, you've got to get me an autograph." Fenton had no idea if the man was joking or not, but at the moment he didn't really care. As if he sensed the investigator's feelings, White went on in a much more serious tone. "You will tell your family everything you've been told. You will be held in top secrecy—the penalty for revealing this secret, I must warn you, is death.

"Nothing I agree with, but the Volturi do have rules and quite a bit of influence over everything vampire."

"The Volturi?" Fenton gasped. "But they're murderers..."

"Yes," White agreed. "But they are also vampires. Look at it through their eyes, Mr. Hardy: they are only doing what is instinct." As Fenton started to protest, White cut him off. "Please, Mr. Hardy. If you wish to save your sons, you have to accept what I am telling you—the Volturi are the 'vampire government'. The Network is not. We are a secret government agency run by vampires. There's a difference. And while I do not believe that what the Volturi does is right, I can do nothing to prevent it and neither can you. Vampires will be vampires.

"Now, Mr. Hardy, I was saying—you go home and you tell your wife and sister everything you have witnessed and heard today. You  _make_ them believe. You have fifteen minutes to do so, after which I, along with fourteen of our vampire agents—all vegetarians, for your comfort—will pick you up and we (we being the vampires) will rescue the boys. You see, Joe is a special sort of vampire and there are some people who will go to any lengths to obtain that which is special...Since he has been abducted by vampires, he will be rescued by them. We will save your sons." A pause. "On one condition."

Fenton sighed. "Anything, I just want my boys back."

"The Network wants Joe's abilities and allegiance. He can go dark, be a freelance agent, whatever—but he has to belong to us."


	11. Chapter 11

Frank groaned as he was gently—when you are shoved by a vampire,  _gently_ is the equivalent of what a human would view as  _roughly—_ shoved to the ground of the dungeon at the bottom of the Lazarus Clinic. The place had once been an asylum and there were prison cells filled with chains and rats and mold from when the overly-dangerous "patients" needed to be secured.

The vampires had given him a sling to put his arm in and had escorted him down the stairs to a jail cell where Joe was sitting on the floor, his hands secured behind his back, studying the pattern of the stone floor. They had opened the door and shoved the boy in, then taken their place guarding the cell. Frank struggled to his feet and rushed to his brother, cradling his broken arm close to his chest protectively.

Joe glanced up and his vibrant eyes narrowed as he took in the sling and the bruise that had spread on Frank's forehead from being knocked out earlier. In a quiet, deadly calm voice, he said, "What did they do to you?"

Frank glanced at his throbbing arm and gave his younger brother a wan smile. "Nothing, Joe."

"Doesn't look like 'nothing' to me," Joe argued in the same quiet, unnerving voice.

"Joe...are you okay?" Frank said urgently, greatly concerned about his "baby brother's" mental welfare—Joe was never,  _ever_ this quiet.

Joe leaned his head back against the wall and as he shifted, Frank noticed that the big chunk of flesh that the vampires had ripped away from his body was still gone. He felt sick to his stomach, angry beyond belief at what these monsters had put his brother through, never mind that they had bruised his own head  _and_ broken his arm!

"Joe," Frank said again, putting his good hand on Joe's cold shoulder.

"Frank, do you think I'm okay?" Joe whispered. "This is all my fault and you know it. If it wasn't for me and stupid mouth, you wouldn't be here right now."

Frank raised an eyebrow as he scooted his back against the wall next to his younger brother and wrapped a comforting arm around his freezing shoulders. "Okay, Joe, I know that your mouth gets us into a lot of trouble sometimes, but I can honestly say I have no idea what you're talking about. You didn't say anything to get me into this position!"

"Oh yeah?" Joe countered. "They had orders just to take me. But you ran in there and screwed things up for them. If you would have left, nothing would have happened, but you stayed. So I reminded you of what happens when you die—" Frank winced, "—and that interested him. So they took you, too, Frank and I'm so scared you're going to die and it's all my fault..."

"Joe." Joe turned his head away, knowing that if vampires could cry, he'd be releasing a rainstorm right about now. Frank tried again. "Joe." When his brother didn't look at him, Frank kept on talking anyway. "I don't in any way, form, or fashion blame you for what happened today," he said firmly. "You were trying to save me. How were you supposed to know that those beasts would be interested in me after what you said? Joe, you were trying to protect me by reminding me of that—a low blow, I'll admit, but when have you ever been one to play fair?"

Joe slowly turned his head to look at his brother, a ghost of a smile on his death white face. "You really don't blame me?" Frank shook his head vigorously. "Heck, no. I'm not even hurting that bad. I'm just afraid of what's going to happen to you."

Joe smiled darkly. "You have an immortal brother and you are as vulnerable as ever but you still worry about me," he sighed. "Big brother, you  _do_ take your job seriously."

"Shoot yeah, I do," Frank declared, reaching out and ruffling his brother's hair, something he hadn't done since before the transformation. He fell silent for a moment, then motioned toward the handcuffs that held Joe. "I've got one good hand," he informed his brother of the obvious. "Do you want me to try to get them off?"

"It's no use," one of the guards said and Frank was shocked for a moment that the guard had heard him—he had practically mouthed the offer to Joe.

Joe shook his head. "That brute's right—these handcuffs are the hands of the most powerful vamp ever—they're still 'alive', if that's what you want to call it. And his hands only obey the assassins."

Frank's brow furrowed and he looked as if he were in deep thought for a moment. Joe quirked an eyebrow. "What?" he wondered.

Frank's face was completely serious as he said, "You said that his hands only listen to the assassins." Joe dipped his head in affirmation, having no clue what point his brother was trying to make. He burst out laughing when Frank finally did make his point. "How can they listen to the assassins? They're hands; they don't have ears!"

"You know, Frank," Joe chuckled weakly, "that's the smarted question you've asked in a long time." Then despair crashed over them again as they realized that this was probably the last time they would laugh together again. Silence won over conversation, and the boys sat against the wall in the cold dungeon and awaited their fate.

* * *

Vladamir was in a fine mood as he made his way with the rest of the vampire guards down several flights of stairs to the dungeon. He was a very intelligent man, having studied many areas of science at Oxford before  _and_  after discovering the existence of vampires. He knew many things about the monsters—weaknesses that they themselves were not even aware of. And he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he could eventually unlock the secret to an immortal existence with all the pros of being a vampire but none of the cons—blood-drinking to fuel your existence was such a gruesome waste of time when you could be doing something much more profitable for yourself.

As he grew closer to the cell that held his prize, he smiled grimly. It was time to see what this boy was made of.

The fascinating specimen looked up as he approached the cage, extraordinary eyes flashing with an anger that almost made Vladamir step back in alarm. Almost. As it was, he managed to regain his composure and smile tauntingly at the boy and his brother. One of the vampires behind him wheeled the Cold One's gurney into the cage and went about securing the youngest Hardy to it while his trembling brother—what Vladamir  _didn't_ know was that Frank was trembling with rage, not fear—glared at him, unable to do anything to prevent it. As an extra precaution, Joe was gagged with a rough cloth covered by some of the unbreakable Cold One's skin.

"What was the point in that?" Frank protested, looking forlornly at his little brother—the strong kid that he'd been joking around with just moments earlier—reduced to a helpless guinea pig, tied down and gagged to a gurney with eight vampires surrounding him and two guarding the cell. Vladamir smiled and approached the gurney, standing over Joe threateningly. "Well, Frank, I don't want to become a vampire  _just_ yet and I have no doubt that your beloved brother would bite me the first chance he got.

"Now, my young friend, I must decide how to begin my research." Joe, who couldn't respond, just glared at his captor stonily. "I believe," he said, "we should have you 'infect' someone with your poison. We need to see what will indeed happen to someone you bite, as your condition is quite unheard of."

While he was saying this, his evil eyes were locked in a malicious stare on Frank Hardy.


	12. Chapter 12

Fenton stared in shock at Agent White. "What?"

"We want Joseph's services," he said seriously. "He is very different and that makes him valuable. Extremely valuable. We want him to be under the complete protection—and authority—of the Network, instead of being lapped up by the Assassins or crazy scientists like now. We need your word on that, otherwise Joseph might prove to dangerous to be around."

"I-I can't very well answer for Joe," Fenton said shakily. "But I doubt he'd want to be tied down to—"

"I told you," White pushed with a hint of impatience in his silky voice. "He can go dark, be a freelance agent. We just need the Assassins and any other threat out there to know that he's ours—not for hire, not for sale. Honestly, he can do whatever he wants, he's more of a—"

"—prize," Fenton finished wearily.

"For lack of a better term, yes," White said. "He won't be required to do much, Mr. Hardy.

"Just strut around like a show dog," Fenton said sarcastically, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for." Although he hated to admit it, he understood what the agent was saying and agreed that it was a good way to keep Joe safe. He knew Joe wouldn't go for it, but anything to keep his boys out of the hands of terrorists—and worse, vampire terrorists. He sighed. "I can assure you, Agent White, Joe will not be pleased with your request. He is a proud young man and doesn't like to 'belong' to anyone."

White raised an eyebrow. "Do you think you can persuade him?"

"I...yes," Fenton stammered, not knowing if he could but willing to do or say anything to save his boys.

White's demeanor became quite cheerful and he smiled at the detective. "One of our agents is a tracker," he said in an optimistic tone. "He has already discovered where they are being held—an old run-down clinic in Maine called—"

"—the Lazarus Clinic," Fenton finished wearily.

"Right," Agent White agreed, looking impressed.

"Okay, I want you to follow my orders and go tell your wife and sister the truth. We'll be by in fifteen minutes to collect you—and only you. It will take us less than an hour to get to Maine, given that we vampires love speed and have the fastest cars available. Plus, we can't get in trouble for it because we're the government."

Fenton agreed and left the Network's Bayport office, got into his car, and sped off toward his house as fast as he could without getting a ticket. He could get in trouble for speeding. He wasn't the government.

* * *

Vladamir grinned evilly at the brothers, his eyes gleaming in twisted apprehension. "How exciting," he gushed. "Our first experiment."

Joe, gagged, couldn't respond, but Vladamir could guess what kind of naughty things Joe would be screaming at him if he  _could_ talk. The man smiled wider and went on with his monologue. "You see," he said excitedly, "There has never been a case anything like young Joseph's here. There are so many lurking factors, so many things that remain unknown. But not for long.

"From the facts that I have gathered from watching you, sending out some mortal assassins to test your strength, and what Roth has told me, it has come to my attention that you, Joseph, are an extremely unique vampire. According to my sources, you have all the perks of being a vampire—the speed, the agility, the grace, the smooth voice, even the pale skin that is indestructible. And, most importantly, you have the ability to become immortal if your brother here decides to become a vampire as well.

"But you're also different. You will continue to age as long as your brother does. If he dies, you die. If he changes, you both live forever." He smiled. "So many oddities, my young friend, and I'm not even finished yet. "Your eyes, while most vampires' turn red or, in the case of the freak shows like the Cullens, a liquid topaz color, are blue—the most intense, powerful shade of blue I've ever seen in my life, but still, blue. You are now my prized possession until I have acquired your immortality and superhuman abilities."

Joe glared fiercely at his captor, unwilling to show any sign of fear or weakness. But then he glanced at his older brother, huddled in a corner clutching his broken arm to his chest, his eyes became dull and resigned to his fate. This seemed to greatly please Vladamir. Joe felt even worse, because he knew why Frank himself looked so lifeless over in the corner, so meek, so weak—he was afraid if he said or did anything out of line, they would kill him. Normally that wouldn't be a deterrent, but since Joe's fate rested on whether Frank lived or died, Frank's main objective was living.

 _Thanks, Big Brother,_ Joe thought sadly.

Vladamir began to talk again, interrupting Joe's depressing train of thought. "Obviously, the first thing we need to know is what happens when this specimen bites someone. From the research I've done at Oxford and even after being kicked out of that know-it-all establishment," he huffed rather indignantly, "there are many possible results. The most likely is that Frank here will be turned into a normal vampire, because there won't be any special circumstances to make him an oddity like Joseph, but you never know for sure. Another possibility is that he will become a vampire specimen just like Joe. That would be great for me, of course, because then I would have two subjects to study in case I accidentally dispose of one. Or the poison, which might be altered because of the alteration in Joe's vampirism, might simply kill Frank, which would be rather disappointing for me because then my star subject would die, too, and that would be quite annoying, but I suppose that's a chance I'll have to take."

When Vladamir had suggested that Frank might die, Joe's eyes had grown wide and bulged in anger; he threw every bit of his weight against the restraints, but the Dark One merely tightened its grip on the youngest Hardy. Frank was trembling, terrified for his brother.

Vladamir nodded at the vampires in the cell with them. One of them hauled Frank gently to his feet and prodded him over to where Joe lay on the gurney. At the same time, a vampire near Joe whipped the Cold One's gag out of his mouth. Vladamir quickly said, "If you don't do what we tell you, they  _will_ kill your brother whether we need you or not." Joe glared but nodded tersely.

Frank was brought closer to Joe and his uninjured arm thrust forward. Joe's eyes were wide and filled with pain and regret. "Frank, I can't...I'm so sorry...I don't want..."

Frank gently reached out and stroked his baby brother's face, icy skin and all. "Joe, I want you to do this—it's the only thing that will keep you alive. Besides, it might turn out better for both of us. I love you, Baby Brother."

"Love  _you_ , Big Brother," Joe responded weakly.

Vladamir quickly cut the touching scene short with a gagging noise. "Can we say _melodramatic_?" he sneered. "It's only one little bite. Won't kill anyone—probably." He glared stonily at Joe. "Do it. Now."

Joe closed his eyes and opened his mouth, feeling sick when his gleaming white teeth came down on his brother's soft flesh and the teeth pierced the skin. A trickle of blood seeped from Frank's skin and Joe stiffened. He had never tasted human blood before—would he be able to stop, or would he go into a feeding frenzy as described by Dr. Cullen?

Repulsed by the thought, hating the fact that he was causing his brother pain,Joe released his hold on Frank and ignored the fierce aching at the back of his throat that was broadcasting how thirsty he really was. He kept his eyes close as his brother began to scream.


	13. Chapter 13

Outside of the Lazarus Clinic, nearly an hour after the first meeting, Fenton sat in a silent, unbelievably fast 2011 Jaguar—so new that it was still considered a concept car for the rest of the world—with Agent White and five of his vegetarian agents, getting ready to storm the place and hopefully rescue his sons. The rest of the agents were sitting in two other cars—one a Ferrari and another a Camero, both so new that they weren't even on the market yet. Before they had left, White had introduced Fenton briefly to the shockingly beautiful, angelic, pale creatures.

There were three covens, or families of vampires that lived together. The largest coven known to the world was the Cullens, but one group of these vampires came in a close second. The largest coven of vampires coming along for the rescue was the Kenny Clan, a Scottish coven—Hamish, Lindsey, Seosaidh, Duff, Domhnall, and Graham. They all had the same death white faces and golden brown eyes, the main sign of being a vegetarian. Then there was a Japanese coven, consisting of five beautiful dark haired, almond-shaped eyes entities—Kohaku, Yoshirou, Miu, Hayate, and Minako. The last coven was a small Native American group—Quidel, Citlali, and Aylen.

Of course Fenton hadn't been able to memorize the difficult names but he was very surprised to find that all but four of the agents weren't even American. White had hastily explained that the Japanese and Scottish covens had each met with the Cullens at one point and had been inspired to hunt only animals. They then became so passionate about human life that they wanted to do something more to save it. So they had found their way to the Network, where White and the three Native Americans had control of the Network, had obtained their positions, and had not only been working for the Network but had also been full-fledged American citizens for nearly five hundred years.

White smiled confidently at Fenton. "You are to stay out here, in the car."

Fenton started to protest, and White, misreading his indignation, smiled patronizingly at Fenton. "The fight will be inside the building, and these cars are bulletproof and have tinted windows to that the vampires probably won't even be able to see that you're here if they did happen to come out here. You are perfectly safe."

Fenton glowered at the government agent/vampire. "Blast it, man, I don't care about my safety—I want to be there for my boys!"

Agent White looked a bit surprised, but quickly recovered. "No can do, Mr. Hardy," he protested firmly. "You would be torn to shreds in there—in fact, once Vladamir's set his vampires on us, you'd probably end up being dinner."

Fenton grudgingly agreed to stay in the car after White pointed out that his sons were in growing danger each second that they stood out here arguing. White quickly called his vampire agents together. "Okay, men. We go in, assess the situation, then attack. Some of you may die, but that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make." Fenton suddenly got the feeling that he didn't know if Joe  _should_ belong to the Network if that was the way treated their agents. But then White's pleasant face cracked into a grin. "Just kidding, men. We've got this. Let's move in."

Fenton still wasn't very sure how he felt about the man—or rather, vampire—as he took his place back in the Jaguar and hoped that he could trust the person that had such a dark sense of humor to save his sons.

* * *

Frank had closed his eyes, dreading what was going to happen but resigned to the fact that his little brother had no other choice. The first unbearable pain came as Joe's teeth sank into his skin and drew blood. He couldn't help but scream. It was worse than any other injury he had ever received—gunshots, knife wounds, even worse than Jane's "gift" of causing humans and even other vampires unbearable pain. But then the wave of pain subsided into a dull, steady throb in his arm.

The pain slowly moved up his arm like a simmering liquid coal, not hot but still a little painful. Through his lean shoulders, up his neck and into his head, down his spine and through every inch of his body, down his legs and into his toes, and finally into his other arm—the injured one. As the dim liquid fire raced through the veins in his hurt arm, and a searing flash of pain stabbed into his injured limb. He screamed louder than he had before as the pain continued down his arm to his fingertips, agonizing and all-consuming. His throat began to ache as his scream grew louder and louder...

It stopped as quickly as it had started. Frank opened his eyes. Not only was the pain in his body gone, but so was the pain in his head and his broken arm—only it wasn't broken anymore. In fact, Frank had never felt better in his entire life.

"Nothing happened," Vladamir snapped. "And I thought for sure that  _something_ would happen after all that screaming, but no luck!" he stormed. "Well, while I think of a new plan of attack, you all guard them." And he was gone.

The vampires left the cell in disappointment and took their place guarding the brothers outside of the cell. Frank was dumbfounded. What did that creep mean, nothing happened? Obviously something had happened—he had been healed, and everything seemed a bit sharper, his senses heightened just the tiniest bit. He felt a little stronger, more confident.

Frank touched his brothers arm. "Joe?" His voice sounded the same.

Joe's eyes remained closed and his face in a grimace. "Joe." Joe didn't move. "Joe, I'm fine. It's okay."

Joe finally opened his eyes but the same pained look stayed on his face. "Frank...I'm so sorry," he breathed. "I never wanted to put you through pain. I understand if you'll never want to talk to me again..."

"But nothing happened!" Frank exclaimed, not entirely sure this was true. He wanted to tell Joe the truth; inform him that although to Vladamir it seemed that there was nothing different about him, but he was afraid that when the vampires heard they would inform Vladamir who would come back to continue his "experiments with a new fervor. So he restrained himself and tried to conceal his excitement until—if—he got to talk to his brother alone.

Joe frowned, still strapped to the gurney. " _Obviously_ something happened. Why else would you scream like you were being tortured?"

"Okay, it hurt initially," Frank quickly admitted. "But the pain is gone now. And look on the bright side—even though it caused me a few seconds of pain, at least I didn't die—you're okay, brother!"

"You mean, you're okay," Joe corrected with a hint of a smile in his otherwise dead eyes.

"Erm, yeah, I suppose I am. I guess I was so worried about you I didn't even think about what could've happened to me," Frank mused.

"Typical," Joe said. There was still guilt in his eyes, but Frank knew Joe well enough to know that he couldn't force Joe to understand that there's nothing to be sorry for—Joe would have to eventually find out for himself.

Suddenly there was a fierce growl from somewhere very nearby. Several of the vampires guarding the cell sprung like lightening into fighting positions and let out threatening, terrifying hisses. Then there was a scream, "KILL THEM ALL AND BURN THEIR ASSASSIN HIDES!"

So fast that neither boy could keep up, a great number of vampires—even more than the Assassins guarding them—burst into the dungeon and a raging battle ensued. The sound of metal tearing against metal, the shrieks of dying vampires, and the sound of explosions and the smell of sulfur and ash instantly filled the Hardys' senses as the two groups of vampires began to literally tear each other apart.


	14. Chapter 14

For what seemed like forever, the only sounds Frank and Joe heard were the snarling and hissing and ripping of vampire flesh as the newcomers attacked the vampire guards. Not knowing the intention of the massive vampire army that had just attacked, they felt extremely nervous. If the intruders won the fight—which it seemed like they were probably going to—they had no idea if their situation would take a turn to the better or to the worse.

After a long time, the sounds of fighting stopped and hazy figures began to appear out of the smoke and ashes. Despite the incredible amount of sulfur and burning vampire bits, Frank was surprise to find that his eyes didn't burn or water in the least.

The vampires that emerged were not the same ones that had guarded them. The boys quickly counted twelve survivors. They didn't know for sure how many had attacked their kidnappers, but they had a good idea that there were more than thirteen. From the sad look on the vampire in the lead's face, they figured they were right—some had been sacrificed in the line of duty—whatever line that may have been.

The leader bent away the bars of the cell in an instant and coldly ordered the Cold One to release Joe. The vampire's hands hesitated but the arms and hands released their hold and the boy flung the gurney away with astonishing strength, speed, and accuracy. Then he stepped through the bars and kicked a ball of flaming vampire onto the hands and arms. The flame caught and the Cold One's hands were suddenly blazing hot in a ball of fire. The leader of the new vampires looked a little sad at the demise of the hands but Frank and Joe smirked down at it triumphantly before leaping at each other—Joe forgetting his strength—and gave each other a bone-jarring hug. Joe jumped back in horror, expecting to see his brother crushed in a pile of bones on the floor. A huge grin flooded his face as he saw Frank standing there with a big smile on his face.

"Something  _did_ happen!" Joe shouted, slapping his brother on the back. "But you look the same...and you're definitely still fully human—but you're tougher and you're arm's not broken!"

"Just remember that your father is still as delicate as a rose petal," the leader of the vampires said with a grin.

"You're with Dad?" Joe gasped.

"Yes. And you'll be relieved to know that he and your mother and aunt know your secret—with our full permission."

"Wait," Joe said. "Who exactly are  _you_?"

"The Network," the vampire smiled. "You didn't think the Assassins were the only secret group that is run by vampires, did you? The name is White. Agent White." He smiled even bigger. "Welcome to the force, Joe."

* * *

Several hours later, Frank and Joe were in Joe's room, talking over the events that had radically changed their life in just a few short weeks.

"I just can't believe that I have to work for the Network in return for them saving me," Joe growled. "And to make it worse, Vladamir got away."

"But at least you'll have some protection," Frank offered feebly, not very happy about his brother's obligation.

Joe snorted. "Yeah, right. Three vampires were killed on the last mission the Network had," he said.

"And that 'mission' was to save our butts," Frank pointed out and Joe had no answer for that.

"I just wonder what exactly happened to you," Joe wondered. "I mean, you're obviously healed and hard to hurt. Maybe a little stronger and faster but definitely  _not_ a vampire."

At that moment, their answer came in the form of a very convenient phone call. Joe's phone rang and he picked it up, not recognizing the number. "Hello?"

"Joe! How'd you do it?"

"Huh? Do what? Who-who is this?"

"I mean, I had hoped that something like this would happen but I wasn't paying much attention to you and when I did return my attention back to you and Frank I found that you guys broke the rules even more—and got away with it better off than before!"

"Wait—Alice?"

"Duh," the vampire girl, Alice Hale, said in her musical voice.

"What are you talking about?" Joe asked, then put his phone on speaker so Frank could listen as well.

Alice's voice rang out excitedly. "You beat the odds—again! Now you guys are on semi-equal footing." The 'vegetarian' vampire could see the future, and she had obviously seen something that had spawned from their last adventure. "If you die, Frank, Joe won't automatically die, but you won't even have to worry about that—Frank, apparently you turned into some sort of weaker hybrid of Joe. If you were to bite someone else they would turn into a weaker version of you. It's all speculation, and my 'inner eye', of course, but still! Frank, you have a weaker version of all the perks of a vampire except you aren't immortal, you're not  _as_ strong, and you don't look like one. You're fully human but you have a smaller version of the 'super powers'."

"So I pretty much had what Vlad was looking for, save for the immortality?" Joe said in awe.

"Yeah, and if Frank gets bit by a normal vampire, you'll both become immortal but otherwise stay the same way you are now."

Joe suddenly tensed. "Vlad's still out there and that's exactly what he wants," he said. "It can't get out, Alice."

Alice scoffed. "No worries, guys. I think I can handle it."

They talked for a few more minutes, then said good-bye.

"I want to thank you, Joe," Frank said seriously as he put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

Joe looked confused. "For what?"

Frank grinned. "For biting me. All that threatening to do that when we fought as kids actually paid off in the end."

Joe laughed. "Oh, the irony!" Then he grew serious. "So...you heard Alice. We're on even ground now, right?"

"Pretty much. Now that I've got a few vampire qualities and our lives aren't  _so_ intertwined, we're much more equal than before. Weird, how Vladamir capturing us helped us so much."

"Yeah," Joe agreed, an excited gleam in his intense eyes. "So, you know, Frank...the world is still full of bad guys and terrorists and a whole new world of sleuthing and terrorist-fighting has been opened up to us. And now that we're on equal ground again..."

"Consider us sleuthing partners," Frank grinned. "But foremost, best friends and brothers till the end."

"You got it," Joe grinned and the brothers began to discuss the possibilities of a future holding even more potential than they could have ever imagined before.


	15. Epilogue

"The future looks so bright," Joe said as he sat at the breakfast table the next morning, nothing in front of him, relieved that he no longer had to hide the reason why he wasn't eating a truckload of food as usual. Having his parents know his secret was actually one of the best things that could have happened to him.

His aunt looked at him critically over her spectacles. "You are overly-optimistic this morning."

"Well, I just—I dunno. Now that Frank and I have these cool powers and we don't have to hide them from you guys anymore, it just makes me think about how much of a difference we can really make in the world now. It's exciting."

Frank glanced up from his bowl of cereal. "You said it, Joe. I'm just shocked—and excited, of course—that everything worked out the way it did. We'll basically get to carry on a normal life. Except for the fact that you look a little different, have to take a few hunting trips, and—"

"—have to strut around like some prize show chihuahua for those greedy, annoying Network vegetarians," Joe finished with a huff and his family smiled.

"And you'll get to grow old, have us some grandchildren someday," Laura added on, beaming with a mischievously.

Joe gaped at her. "Future rushin' vampire mother say wha...?"

Laura laughed heartily along with her husband. "Aw, not that soon...I'm just agreeing with you on how bright your future looks."

"Speaking of the woman you're going to spend the rest of your life with," Fenton entered the conversation with ease, "isn't Vanessa coming back from her vacation with her mother today?"

If Joe could have turned paler than he already was, he would have. As it was, he gulped. "Oh," he said simply.

Gertrude smiled at her nephew. "By the way, we kept this as a surprise, but I suppose now would be as good a time as ever." She glanced at Fenton, who took up the narration.

"We realized how hard it would be for Vanessa not knowing your secret," he said, then nodded to Laura.

"So we talked to Agent White. He agreed that you were sacrificing a lot of your pride and time in giving yourself to the Network." Laura smiled at Frank and let her eldest son give the clinching statement.

"So," Frank said, grinning from ear to ear, "he agreed to let us tell five—and only five—friends what happened. I figured you would want to tell Vanessa, and I'd like to tell Callie. Chet's our best friend, so he has to know, and Biff, well, you guys are best friends, and Phil's one of mine. How's that sound?"

Joe's grin was so wide that it nearly covered his entire face. "You guys," he said, "are the best family a guy—vampire or not—could ask for."

"Awww," Frank gushed, grinning impishly. "Becoming a vampire has made you really mushy and sweet."

Joe glared at his brother. "Annoying big brother with a death wish say what?"

" _That's_ the Joe we all know and love," Fenton said, still chuckling.

Frank corrected him. "We know. You love."

Joe threw a muffin across the table at him.

Laura smiled at her husband while they and Gertrude watched the boys spring up from the table and start having a muffin-fight, which she knew would end up in an extremely messy kitchen and her boys happy as can be. "I think Joe's right. The future is bright."

Fenton wrinkled his nose as a banana nut muffin sailed past his head with astounding force, courtesy of Joe. "And messy," he added.

Gertrude sniffed in her brother's direction. "You're cleaning that up."

Everyone burst out laughing.

Life was back to normal (define normal for the Hardys again?). Life was good.

Until next time.

**THE END**


End file.
